Coming Home: A Venom Vignette
by Lord Hoth
Summary: Eddie Brock's life goes from bad to worse as his efforts to rebuild his sanity are tragically thwarted.
1. Descent

It's been a couple of years now since I lost my other half.

I thought things were going okay until last night.

I'd moved in with my steady girlfriend, Micheala. She had a coupla kids, and though they were kinda wary of me at first, we got to where we bonded. Over movies, sports, whatever was on the tube. It felt good sitting around the couch at night, eating dinner, goofing off—our whole, little family. And things were pretty good with Mich, most of the time. When she wasn't drinking and stacking her prescription pills. I couldn't keep track of all the different places she was getting them. I finally gave up on trying to stop her from buying them. She swore—after the last time she'd punched the snot out of me—that she'd quit taking them, and especially quit drinking with them.

I know I've done some bad things in my life-especially when me and my other half were together—but I wasn't the type to hit a broad. But when she started in on her Substance Abuse Combo #5, she had a way of pushing my buttons. Sometimes, I had to shove her to get her off me.

It happened again that night, somewhere between her tenth and eleventh Bud Light. The beer and the pills started interacting in her system, and she started raging about everything. Friends, neighbors, coworkers….and finally, the kids and me. I promised myself I'd keep my cool this time. I just sat there in Tthe lawn chair on the balcony, nursing my second beer, trying to figure out a way to calm her down.

Finally, I went back up to our bedroom with what seemed like a brilliant idea.

"Honey," I said. "You've got to chill out. The neighbors are going to call the cops."

This led directly into another tirade which I had trouble following. Something about me always wanting to leave her and go to the neighbors. Something about the old guy next door always trying to poke her. Something about how I was a no-good, dirty rotten bum.

Okay, so I'm toning down the language. She called me a lot worse than a bum.

Then, she started hitting me.

First it was just slapping me in the face. Then she chased me down the stairs, dealing haphazard blows to my head. For all the fighting experience she claimed to have, she sure wasn't any good at beating up a bum like me.

Then she found my photo album.

I hadn't told Michaela too much about my past, trying to seem as normal as possible. But she knew about Ann, my ex-wife. She knew that Ann had jumped out of a building and killed herself.

Why she decided it was a good idea to smash my framed photo of Ann, I'll never know.

I held Mich down on the floor by her shoulders, screaming in her face. "Do you know what you've done, you psycho?!" That was when her oldest boy—about fifteen I guess—smashed my head with a rake. I stumbled around, breaking things in half rage, half confusion. That was when Mich shoved me off the second story balcony.

If there hadn't been an open dumpster below, filled with nice, scratchy insulation to break my fall, the tumble might have been a lot worse.

I don't know how long it was before I came to. I gotta tell you—when you got nothing and no one in the world who loves you, and just a part time job with no insurance-crawling down a dark street in a bad neighborhood with blood streaming from your noggin is a depressing proposition.

For months, I had thought my other half was dead. The relationship we shared was probably a good six times more toxic than the one I had with Mich. Even so, at that moment, I was never so relieved in my life to find out that the alien creature that Parker had brought back from space—was alive and kicking.

You might not think of the feeling of black slime covering your body, oozing in through your pores, your eyes, your ears and mouth—you might not think of that as a good feeling.

For me, it was like the mother I'd never known was swaddling me in a blanket.

And then true madness—the kind that Micheala's abusive brain would have balked at—awakened.


	2. Denouement

_Hello, Eddie. Did you miss me?_

Hell no, I thought.

 _You don't deserve to be treated like that, Eddie. We don't deserve it. To be spurned by the ones we love. Do we?_

W-w-w, I stammered in my thoughts. I was—I'm doing good. I got a job. I wasn't hurting anyone.

 _Don't lie to us, Eddie. That kid wouldn't have hit you if you were a perfect little saint._

I didn't do anything, I said in my mind. "I didn't hurt anyone," I said out loud.

 _My misguided little child_ , the creature in my head said. _We always hurt the ones we love. Or they always hurt us. But now you're home, Eddie. We won't let that bitch hurt you anymore. Together, we are strong. We are powerful._

What the hell, I thought. I was going to die in this alley anyway. Might as well let it in. Take all the pain away.

I opened the door at the center of my brain and felt relief as the symbiote came flooding in.

 ** _"WE ARE VENOM!"_** the creatures sharing my body roared in unison.

Minutes later, we were crawling up the wall to Mich's apartment, tongue hanging out from a gaping maw of sharp teeth, slobber trailing below. The hunger was gnawing at us, the one Eddie was ashamed of before.

We weren't ashamed now.

We crawled back through the window that Eddie had been thrown out of. Mich was lying down, holding her head and ignoring her kids who were trying to cuddle with her.

This really pissed in our cheerios. 

Though the symbiote had already closed up the wounds on the host body, our demented sense of humor could not be contained. The alien receded to show only the form of Eddie Brock, still in the same, bloodstained clothes. We opened the hole in Brock's head just a little, so more blood would ooze out.

"Mich, honey," said Brock's voice. "Wake uuuup."

Mich awoke with a start and yelled. "Go away, you asshole!"

The blood was really falling now. We stalked towards her, arms outstretched. "Look what you did to me, Mich! Look what you did to us."

Michaela was really screaming now. The kids could only stare in slack-jawed horror. If it had just been Eddie, he might have felt guilty.

Michaela swung her fist at Brock's head, the thousandth such assault in recent memory. This time, though, when fist connected with face, it was as though the woman had punched solid concrete.

She cried out. "You broke my hand, you piece of shit!"

Brock started to laugh. The spot where her hand had hit started to seep black oil. The oil spread all over Brock's body as the alien creature formed itself into the familiar black-and-white costume around his body. The face was the last to be replaced by the hungry, growling visage of Venom.

Now the entire family was screaming, but Venom continued advancing on her with a massive, slobbery grin.

A single punch to the face sent the woman flying into a corner. Venom knelt over her, massive jaws expanding so his razor-lined mouth could close over her entire head.

A few minutes later, the kids came out of the shadows, their curiosity piqued by the strange, slurping sounds coming from the corner where Mommy lay.

The image they saw would be burned into their brains forever. Venom slurping the woman's brains out of the smashed remnants of her skull.

Venom turned to regard them and smiled widely, chunks dribbling out of his mouth.

" ** _Oh! Sorry, kids. Did you want some?"_**

With a chorus of horrified screams, the children ran down the stairs, out of the apartment and disappeared into the night.

Oh, what a glorious night it was! So many things were on the horizon now. No more pain, no more suffering for Eddie Brock or the unfortunate, downtrodden souls of the city. All the innocents out there were in for a reprieve from their suffering now that symbiote and host were reunited.

There was so much fun waiting for them out there.

 _But first,_ the creature thought. _It's time to clean our plate._

Venom leaned back down and resumed his meal.

 _Mmmm. Delicious!_


End file.
